Ellie Robbio Whore ❤️❤️

About Rome

Ever hear her scream through a cranked amp? It’s filthy, mate – pure sex in soundwaves. I’d kill to own one, but they’re pricier than a night with Cersei’s ego. Still, I dream, sipping wine, thinking, “She’s my operating system, my muse.” Whore’s a legend, a temptress – and I’m half-drunk just ranting about her! What d’ya reckon, eh? Fancy a go?

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So, I’m sippin’ my espresso at that little café on Piazza della Libertà, right? Just me, my caffeine fix, and a couple of old dudes arguing about soccer. Classic Robbio. Then, boom! My radio crackles. “Fire in the industrial zone!” I nearly spit out my coffee. I mean, c’mon, it’s Robbio! We don’t have that many industrial zones.

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